pjbooks Chapter 42 The Peak of the Bubble
Chapter 42 The Peak of the Bubble
The Tokyo Tower outside the floor-to-ceiling windows looks like a giant, red-hot branding iron, piercing straight into the night sky of Minato Ward.
Looking out from this luxury apartment on the 33rd floor, the entire city of Tokyo resembles a galaxy flowing with gold and desire.
The light trails formed by the convergence of traffic meandered along the capital's expressways, while countless neon signs vied to paint the sky an ambiguous purplish-red.
Shin Kitahara held a glass of expensive "Hibiki" whisky in his hand, the ice cubes making a crisp sound as they hit the glass.
The carpet beneath my feet is an imported Italian long-pile carpet, and the genuine leather sofa behind me exudes that unique leather smell that only brand-new banknotes have.
"These damn bubbles..."
Kitahara Shin took a sip of the spicy liquor, a self-deprecating smile curving his lips.
Just a week ago, his manager, Ota, presented him with a new agency contract and essentially "kidnapped" him from his charming little apartment in Nakano to this place.
"Kitahara-kun! You're now the 'Nation's Mad Dog,' a near-top-tier star worth five million! If the paparazzi were to photograph you still living in a working-class neighborhood like Nakano, having to take out your own trash, our agency's stock price would plummet!"
Ota waved the keys with an air of entitlement, saying, "This is a 'storefront' that the agency rented especially for you. The monthly rent is 800,000 yen, and it will all be paid through the company! Just relax and stay here. This is part of the job—to play the role of a successful star."
So he moved into this cage, which was as luxurious as a prefab apartment but lacked any human touch.
Just three months ago, he was still huddled in his dilapidated apartment in Nakano, a tiny six-tatami mat-sized room, listening to the couple next door arguing, and calculating how many coins he would need to spend at the laundromat.
Now, the price of this glass of wine alone is equivalent to a month's rent back then.
"Is this what it feels like to be famous...?"
He didn't feel much excitement; instead, the worn-out notebook of a retired detective in his arms gave rise to an almost cold sense of detachment.
This house wasn't his, nor was this luxury. He felt less like a successful person and more like a spy who had infiltrated the palace, coldly observing the final frenzy of this so-called "bubble economy."
"Kitahara-kun! Still admiring the scenery? The car is already waiting downstairs."
The manager's voice came from the entrance hall.
This guy recently changed into an Armani suit, his hair was slicked back and shiny, and he walked with a swagger. "Tonight is a gathering of the president of Takada Real Estate, and a few big producers are also there. I can't be late."
……
Jardin, a high-end members-only club in Ginza 8-chome.
As the heavy doors were pushed open, a luxurious atmosphere filled with the scents of Chanel No. 5, Cuban cigars, and aged brandy rushed out.
The light from the crystal chandelier reflected off everyone's wine glasses and jewelry, making one's vision somewhat hazy.
"Oh my! Isn't that our 'national rabid dog'?!"
A man with a flushed face and a belly as big as a mountain of flesh staggered to his feet. He was President Takada, a nouveau riche who owned several prime plots of land in Tokyo, and one of the potential investors in the film "Violent Man".
"Kitahara-kun! Come, come, sit next to me!"
President Takada grabbed Kitahara Shin's shoulder, his breath reeking of alcohol. "I watched 'Yakuza Blood,' it was so exciting! Especially that scene where they smash someone with a hammer, it was pure art! I have a holdout on a piece of land, if you could go and scare them a bit, they'd probably move out the next day! Hahahaha!"
The hostesses and several producers around them also joined in with a burst of half-hearted laughter.
Kitahara Shin sat down obediently with a polite but distant smile on his face.
He was observing.
Using the insights gained from that "journal," I observe this group of people standing at the top of the bubble.
"I heard Kitahara-kun got a role in Takeshi Kitano's new movie?" A real estate developer next to him handed him a cigar. "What kind of movie can that comedian make? It's just a hobby, I guess. But it doesn't matter, as long as you're in it, the box office is guaranteed."
"Yes, the whole of Japan is going crazy right now." President Takada waved his thick arms as if commanding a vast army. "My stocks doubled last month! And I bought that golf course in Hawaii! You can never have enough money!"
"Come on, to the ever-rising stock price, cheers!"
"Cheers to buying up all of America!"
The clinking of glasses produced a mesmerizing sound.
Everyone was laughing, and greed gleamed in their eyes. They talked about deals worth hundreds of millions as if they were discussing where to buy groceries.
They waved 10,000 yen bills, hailed taxis on the streets of Ginza, and even folded the banknotes into paper airplanes and threw them out of the window.
In the autumn of 1989, all of Japan believed that tomorrow would be better and that this grand event would never end.
Apart from Kitahara Shin.
He sat in the center of the commotion, but his gaze went beyond the crowd and landed on a small business owner in the corner who was bowing and scraping to borrow money. Then he looked at President Takada's eyes, which, despite his maniacal laughter, could not hide his anxiety.
This is not a golden age.
This is nothing more than a bunch of lunatics dancing on a volcano.
The magma beneath the earth's crust had begun to boil, and the smell of sulfur had seeped into the ground, but they were still pouring champagne into the cracks beneath their feet, thinking that this would cool down the impending disaster.
An unprecedented sense of absurdity welled up inside me.
Isn't this the world depicted in "Violent Man"?
That world, outwardly glamorous but inwardly rotten, rife with violence and desire, and devoid of any rules.
【Ding--】
A crisp notification sound suddenly exploded in his mind, even drowning out the surrounding noise.
Kitahara Shin paused slightly in the hand holding the wine glass.
Several lines of semi-transparent text appeared before my eyes:
[System Insight: The host has grasped the essence of the "spirit of the times."]
[Triggering the Advanced Quest: Recorder of the Era]
[Task Description: You are on the eve of the collapse of the bubble economy. This is a massive tragedy, but also the best source of inspiration for actors. In the upcoming work (such as "Violent Man"), please do more than just play a role; instead, infuse your performance with the "madness, nihilism, and violence" of this era.]
[Goal: To make your character a "living fossil" of this era.]
[Reward: Breakthrough in acting skills (from "physical resemblance" to "spiritual resemblance"), unlocking the special attribute "Aura of a Master".]
A chronicler of the times...?
Kitahara Shin slowly put down his wine glass.
Looking at the oily-faced President Takada in front of him, he suddenly felt that the man was no longer an annoying nouveau riche, but an excellent subject for observation.
That boundless greed, that weakness masked by violence, that madness that knows no tomorrow.
Isn't this the "Kikuchi"?
That detective in Takeshi Kitano's movies, who wears a suit, is usually taciturn, but can beat people to death for no reason.
Because in this crazy era, reasoning is useless.
Violence is the only universal currency.
"Kitahara-kun? Why aren't you drinking?" President Takada leaned closer. "Are you being disrespectful?"
Kitahara Shin turned his head and looked at him.
This time, there was something different in his eyes.
It was a look that was a mixture of pity and coldness, as if looking at a dying person.
That was a chemical reaction produced by the dual effects of "the worn-out notebook of a retired criminal investigator" and "the recorder of the times".
President Takada was taken aback by that look, and a cold sweat instantly broke out on his back, sobering him up halfway.
"Uh...you..."
"I'm thinking about the script."
Kitahara Shin said calmly, picking up a cigarette from the table but not lighting it; he simply twirled it nimbly between his fingers.
"The president is right, this era is indeed amazing."
He stood up and straightened the collar of his suit.
"It's so exciting...it makes you want to tear it apart completely and show it to the audience."
Stepping out of the club, the Ginza district was still brightly lit late at night.
Kitahara Shin took a deep breath of the cool night breeze.
He knew that his "transformation in acting" had only just begun.
In this bubble about to burst, he will use the character "Kikuchi" to toll the first death knell for this era.